


she shed her skin to walk on land

by Qzil



Series: the ocean calls her home again [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Kid Fic, Mild Sexual Content, Minor Character Death, Selkies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 03:24:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6103219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qzil/pseuds/Qzil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fourteen years after she finds her skin and leaves, Meg returns for she and Castiel's daughter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	she shed her skin to walk on land

**Author's Note:**

> Because a couple of people asked for a sequel to she donned her skin and swam away. Not 100% true to the traditional selkie myths.

Castiel stares at the sea most mornings, looking for a hint of spotted fur or the splash of a seal fin. Morgan always asks what he is looking for, her bright-blue eyes far too intelligent for a child of four. He pats her head and tells her that he’s just looking at the water, and for nothing in particular. His daughter always seems to sense the lie, but never questions it. Most days he catches her staring at the sea, too, her little nose scrunched up in confusion, eyes narrowed and her head tilted to the side. He supposes that Meg was right, that the ocean is in their daughter’s blood.

.

Castiel still lives in his small shack by the sea, with his small flock of chickens and his few pigs. He has more furniture than he did before his daughter was born, a new bed and wardrobe for her, and a screen for her to dress behind as well. But Morgan is much like her mother, and paces like an animal in a cage when kept inside for long periods of time. Rain does not bother her. In fact, she seems to prefer it to sunshine, running out of their house the moment she hears rain hitting the roof. He yells at her about catching a chill, about getting her dress dirty, about tracking mud in on the floor, but she does not listen. Water makes her happy.

As Morgan’s seventh birthday approaches, Castiel watches the beach even more vigilantly. It has been almost seven years since his wife donned her seal skin and left him, left them, and so she can return. He harbors a small hope that she will, that Meg will walk out of the water, naked and dripping wet, pale as the moon, and offer him her skin and tell him how to keep her from leaving once again.

His daughter is old enough to ask questions, but she seems to sense his hesitation, because she does not. She simply plays with the small wooden carvings that Meg made her before she left, and thanks him for his gift of new earrings that he’s fashioned out of small shells.

The next morning, however, he wakes to find his daughter staring at the sea, a smile on her face.

“The seals,” she tells him. “A seal talked to me, daddy.”

He feels his heart stop in his chest. Roughly grabbing her arm, Castiel drags Morgan away from the water. It is the only time he has ever been less than gentle with her, and his daughter squeals and digs her heels into the sand and tries to wriggle away. Castiel only readjusts his grip and drags her into the house.

“Don’t go near the ocean. It isn’t safe,” he tells her. “I don’t want you going down there.”

Morgan stomps her small foot. “Then why do we live by it? Why can’t we move closer to uncle Dean and auntie Anna? Why do you keep staring at it?”

Castiel falls into a chair and sighs heavily. He cannot tell Morgan the truth. It would sound like the insane ramblings of an old man. Instead, he lies. “Your mother drowned shortly after you were born. She went for a swim and I never found the body. I just want you to be safe.”

Morgan glares at him. Despite her ice-blue eyes, she looks more like Meg than ever. “You’re lying,” she says, her voice cold. She sounds like her mother, too.

.

Morgan looks more like her mother with each passing day, and soon Castiel cannot keep track of her. She slips out of the shack early in the mornings, having inherited her mother’s tendency to rise early, and flees to the woods or down the beach. He finds her hiding in odd places, inside hollow logs or wedged between rocks or perched high up in branches. When he cannot find her, he combs the beach or woods for hours, only to return home and see her sitting at the table covered in mud or sand and holding oddly shaped rocks, feathers, and shells. Other times she is empty handed, but has a small smile on her face, as if she has a secret.

The day after her eighth birthday, Castiel wakes to the sound of Morgan’s laughter and splashing. He rushes to the window and finds her in the ocean, bobbing with the tide. When she sees him, Morgan waves in greeting and easily swims to shore, shaking the excess water from her body.

He forces himself to remain calm. “What were you doing? Do you have any idea how dangerous that is, going out by yourself?”

Morgan shrugs and squeezes the water out of her hair. “I wasn’t alone. There were two seals with me. They said the ocean wouldn’t let me drown.”

His mouth goes dry and his palms start to sweat. “You saw a seal? Two of them?”

Morgan nods. “Yup. Every time I went out too far or sunk a little, they herded me back toward the shore and made sure I stayed above water.”

Castiel knows he cannot stop his daughter from going in the ocean. It is in her blood, as it was in her mother’s. Her very name means _dweller by the sea._

Castiel deflates. “Don’t go without me being there to watch you. I want you safe.”

Morgan nods and runs off to feed the chickens, but Castiel knows that she will not obey him. There is too much of her mother in her.

.

He still thinks about Meg most days. He had hoped she would return after seven years to see her daughter. But that time has come and gone, and she has not reappeared. He wonders if she even bothered to shed her skin again, or if she confined herself back to the sea, fearful of land after her time with him. He wonders if she married the selkie man she was engaged to when they met and if she’s had more children with him, children that can swim through the ocean in the way Morgan never can.

He keeps her things still, her two dresses and her apron and her cap and necklace and earrings. He tells himself that he will give Morgan the wooden beads when she is old enough to understand the truth about her parentage, so she will have something of her mother’s.

He tells Anna the same lie he tells Morgan, that Meg went for her morning swim and simply didn’t come back, but Dean knows the truth. From time to time he tells Castiel that he needs to tell Anna the truth about what he did, but Castiel knows that he cannot. His sister would never forgive him, and would insist that Morgan come live with the Winchesters. He cannot afford that.

.

The more Morgan grows, the more like her mother she becomes. She has her mother’s long, dark hair and rounded face, has her voice and laugh and the same wildness about her that Meg had. Her blunt baby teeth fall out and her adult ones come in slightly longer and sharper than a normal human’s. She moves through the water with inhuman grace as well, and can hold her breath far longer than anyone else in the village.

Most days, Castiel does not see her for hours. She returns to their home by the time the sun sets, but spends her days on the beach, digging in the sand and swimming and looking for treasures. She usually returns with a bucket full of fish or crabs or oysters, and once in a while she shows him a bit of sea-smoothed glass or a glinting, gold coin that she claims she found in the sand.

Thanks to his daughter, the two of them never go hungry.

Much like her mother once did, Morgan crafts things from shells or other things salvaged from the beach. She adorns herself in jewelry made from fishbones and shells strung together with wire and leather cords, and each day looks less and less human and more like a creature straight from the sea.

.

The year she turns thirteen, Castiel finally grows curious enough to follow her. He makes sure to stay awake through the evening hours. Morgan rises with the sun, glances at him, and quietly slips out of the house. He waits for a few minutes before he follows, drowsy, and manages to stay out of sight as his daughter picks her way down the beach.

Eventually, they reach the rocky wall of the cliffside. Morgan slips into the water and swims out a few yards around the rocks jutting into the ocean, then effortlessly hauls herself onto the natural jetty and scrambles over it. Castiel follows clumsily, and reaches the top just in time to see his daughter slide down into the water again and swim toward a small opening in the rock.

He follows her, making sure to keep down. The water is shallow near the cave opening, and the current easily pushes him inside. Her hideaway is small, barely six feet by nine feet, but the ceiling is high enough that he knows he could easily stand at full height.

He watches as Morgan lights a fire, illuminating the small space, and has to stifle a gasp. His daughter has covered every inch of available space in her little hideaway with treasures, from interesting bits of driftwood and shells to what looks like strings of gold and pearls. Small, natural spaces in the walls provide a sort of shelf for other things, coins and coral and silver.

He feels something brush his leg for a moment and ducks down behind his rock when he hears his daughter give a delighted cry. Carefully peeking around, he nearly loses his grip when he sees the small, elegant head of a seal break through the water, a delicate necklace with a large heavy-looking silver pendant hanging from its nose.

Morgan crouches by the water to take the necklace and chatters at the seal. She does not speak English to it, but rather imitates the seal’s sounds as best she can with a human throat. Castiel watches as Morgan places the necklace in a niche in the wall and then slips into the water with the seal. The two of them swim together while Morgan continues to chatter and the seal chatters back.

He stays there for hours, shivering as he clings to the rock and watches his wife and daughter play. He is certain that the seal is Meg, certain that she’s been visiting Morgan and bringing her treasures from the deep.

Eventually, the seal sits up, presses her nose to Morgan’s, and then slips quietly into the water. He watches it pass, but does not reach out. But the seal surfaces again when it reaches him and looks into his eyes, and gives him an almost human nod.

Castiel nods back, slips from his rock, and walks into the cave. His daughter is examining the necklace and humming.

“Morgan,” he says. She jumps and turns around to face him, her blue eyes wide and terrified.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she says. “This is a secret place.”

Castiel shivers and sits down on the gritty sand. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. Does that seal come visit you often?”

Morgan nods and plays with the chain of her necklace, but does not look him in the eye. “Every once in a while. I never know when she’s going to come.”

“You need to be careful. They’re wild animals,” Castiel says. “They have teeth that can tear you apart.”

“She wouldn’t hurt me,” Morgan says. “She says she wouldn’t. Her father comes sometimes, too, and plays with me, but he hasn’t been here for a while.”

“She _says_ she won’t hurt you?” Castiel asks. “Morgan, you can’t talk to an animal.”

His daughter finally looks him in the eye. “I can.”

“What does this seal say?”

Morgan shrugs. “She tells me stories and where to find things to eat and stuff.”

“Does she say anything else?”

“No.”

Castiel cannot tell if Morgan is lying or not. Regardless, she gives no indication that she knows of her true parentage, and that is enough for him. He simply reaches out and takes his daughter’s hand.

“Come home now,” he says. “We’ll make supper.”

.

That night, he pries away the floorboards by the fireplace and pulls out his wife’s things. The color is fading from Meg’s dress and her beads are dusty, and her earrings are tarnished and in need of a good polish. Her things no longer smell like her, either. Instead, they smell like the earth he’s entombed them in.

He hadn’t had a funeral for Meg, not even for show, because he hadn’t seen the point. Instead, Anna and the children had come and tossed a few flowers into the ocean, said a few prayers, and wished him well. Anna has tried to mother Morgan over the years, but as his daughter grew more and more wild like her mother, Castiel told her that it was useless. She would do whatever she wished, and that was that.

Sometimes, he wonders what he will do when his daughter decides to leave him and find a husband. She is growing more and more beautiful with each passing day, and he has no doubt that she will one day be as beautiful as her mother. He knows that one day there will be boys from the village that will vie for her hand and that she may pick one of them. But he does not think she will ever move far from the sea.

.

He wakes one morning to find Morgan gone, but that is not unusual. The chickens and pigs have already been fed, and their small garden has been given its morning watering. He milks the goat and has a quick breakfast of berries and milk and takes to the woods to check his snares.

He returns home around noon with a rabbit for his troubles, and sets about skinning the animal for dinner when he hears the goat bleat excitedly and the sound of his daughter’s voice reaches his ears. He hears her chattering about the chickens and pigs and the interesting things she’s found in the woods, and wonders just who she found while she was out exploring.

His question is answered when the door opens. Castiel feels his breath leave his body. His stomach does summersaults and his heart pounds against his ribcage.

Meg bares her sharp teeth at him in a sort of smile. “Hey, Cas.”

His mouth opens and closes several times as he struggles to find something to say. His wife is back. She is just as beautiful as he remembers, having hardly aged. There are fine wrinkles around her eyes and at the corners of her mouth, and her old, green dress is a little too tight for her. She is once again pale as the moon, as if her skin has not seen sunlight for over seven years, and her thick, dark hair is as long and shiny as ever.

To her, Castiel knows that he must look older than he is. Although his face is not heavily lined, he sports more wrinkles than she does, years of frown and laugh lines spreading across his face. His hair has started to gray at the temples, and has thinned with age. And he, too, has grown thicker, and his skin has begun to sag. His body is not what it was when they met almost fourteen years ago, when he was young and stupidly in love with this impossibly beautiful creature from the sea.

Morgan clutches her mother’s hand and tugs her inside the shack. “This is my dad.”

Meg turns her gaze to Morgan, her dark-brown eyes glittering. “I know. I need to talk to him alone, okay?”

Morgan looks between them, her blue eyes narrowed, but eventually lets go of her mother’s hand and slips outside. Meg turns to watch her go, and Castiel sees her shoulders slump slightly. Then she takes a deep breath and turns back to him.

He shuffles from foot to foot, feeling like an awkward teenager despite the fact that he is a grown man, and still her husband besides. “Would you…would you like to sit?”

Meg nods and crosses the small room to sink into a chair. She gestures for him to sit opposite, and he does, never looking away from her face. Studying her, he notices a new, jagged scar that starts at her right eyebrow and ends at her left cheek.

“How long have you been seeing her?” he asks.

“Since she was a child,” Meg answers. “I showed her the little cave. I bring her things I find and play with her a little. She’s my daughter. I have that right.”

“She says that she can talk to you,” Castiel continues. “Have you told her?”

Meg shakes her head. “That’s not a conversation I wanted to have. Not while I was a seal.”

“Why didn’t you come when she turned seven?” Castiel asks in a small voice. “I waited for you. I looked for you every day. I thought you would come back. You just left, without telling me. You left her.”

“I had to,” Meg tells him. “I don’t belong here. And I never wanted to stay.”

“You said you loved me,” Castiel whispers. Meg sighs and reaches out to pat his hand. He recoils without thinking. Her skin it cold, like it was when he first met her on the beach.

“I did, for a time,” she says softly. “There are a lot of stories about my kind, you know. They say that neither chains of steel nor chains of love can keep us from the sea. That much is true, at least. I couldn’t stay for you, and I couldn’t stay for her.”

“Then why come back now? After all this time, why come back?”

Meg fixes her eyes on him and takes a deep breath. “My father is dying.”

Castiel closes his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You don’t know him,” Meg says. “But he wanted to visit someone here before he did. He’s a slow swimmer now, so he’ll be along in a couple of days. Do you remember when I told you that he had a human woman when he was young?”

Castiel nods. “Dean’s mother, Mary Winchester. But she’s been dead for years.”

“I know, and so does he. But he wanted to see her grave, before he goes, and meet his granddaughter properly. I told him I would meet him here,” Meg explains. “I had our daughter hide my skin. I know she will give it back to me, when the time is right.”

“How did you find it?” Castiel asks. “I thought you’d never find it.”

“I thought you’d hidden it better,” Meg says. “Whenever you’d go into town, I’d comb the woods or the caves. I even asked Anna if you’d given her a seal skin as a present. You would’ve done better to sell it or trade it off to one of the wandering merchants. I found it shortly before I gave birth, but I managed to resist the call of the sea until after I had Morgan.”

“Why leave her here?”

Meg looks away. “I was too close to my time. I would not have made it back to my pod before I gave birth. The two of us alone could not have survived the open ocean. It was best, to leave her here. And I did not think you would survive losing both of us. Did you tell people I was dead?”

He nods. “Except for Dean. He knew what you were.”

“I’ll still lay low,” she promises. “I won’t go into the village. I assume I’m welcomed here?”

“Of course you are,” he says.

Meg looks around the shack and smiles when she sees the wooden toys she’d carved for Morgan. The shells she’d collected still line the mantle of the fireplace, and he knows that she noticed several of her seashell wind chimes still hanging outside. “You kept my things.”

“I hoped you would come back,” he tells her. “For years, I hoped.”

Meg shakes her head. “You forced me to wed you. You kept me here, on land, when I did not want to be. That is unforgiveable.”

He hangs his head. “I know.”

“I loved you, once,” she says. “But my kind love easily and often, and it wanes just as quickly.”

“I never stopped,” he tells her.

Meg pats his hand again. Her skin is still too cold, but he does not shy away from it. She smiles sadly at him. “I know.”

.

They don’t tell Morgan.

She knows that Meg is the seal that plays with her, that taught her to swim when she was young. They carefully instruct the girl that she is not to tell her aunt Anna or uncle Dean or any of her cousins about her father’s visitor. For once, she doesn’t argue. Instead, Morgan only nods and says that nobody would believe her, anyway.

That first night, the three of them feast on milk and rabbit and fish that Meg catches on the beach. Despite her age and her newly-human form, she still moves as gracefully as she did years ago, diving into the water and emerging with more than enough fish for them to eat.

Neither she nor Castiel talk to each other much. Instead, Morgan does the talking for them. Now that Meg is here, sitting at her table, she feels free to tell her father about knowing her for years. She asks Meg a million questions about living underwater, asks if it hurts to shed her skin, asks if the other seal, the older male, will come and visit, too.

“He will,” Meg promises. She does not answer all of Morgan’s questions. When she does answer one, it is in short, clipped sentences.

Watching the two of them, Castiel can’t help but notice how alike they are. It goes beyond their features, which are nearly identical. Morgan eats the same way Meg does, swallowing her food down in small bites without chewing, gestures the same way she does, and moves with the same inhuman grace that Meg shows.

That night, Castiel curls up next to the hearth with his extra blankets, leaving the bed for Meg. He knows that he has no right to share it with her, not anymore. Morgan seems reluctant to retire to the small bed that he and Dean built for her when she began growing out of her cradle.

“Will you tell me a story?” she asks Meg. Castiel only raises his eyebrows at her. His daughter has been telling him for years that she is too old for bedtime stories. But clearly, the appearance of a woman who can easily change from human to seal has brought the love of fairytales back to her.

Meg glances at him as if asking for permission. He nods to her and sits up to listen to the story, too. Meg pats the bed next to her and Morgan eagerly climbs in.

“Once, a very long time ago, there lived a princess at the edge of the sea,” Meg begins. “She was very beautiful, with long, red hair, and pale skin, and she was her father’s pride and joy. But her true beauty came from her kindness. The princess cared for every living creature, and from the time she was a small child she would bring injured birds and woodland animals to the castle and nurse them back to health. In return, the creatures taught her their language, and soon she was able to speak to every animal in the kingdom.

“Most of all, the princess loved to swim. Every morning she would go down to the beach just outside the castle and go into the ocean. On one such morning, she came across an injured seal that managed to make its way onto the beach. The seal was very hurt, and near death. He was surprised to find that the princess knew his language, and did not plan to kill him for his pelt or meat. The princess told him that she would nurse him back to health, and she did, taking him inside of her home and caring for him. She had a special tub filled with seawater, and spent every waking moment with the seal.

“While he was healing, the seal told the princess of his life under the sea. In return, she told him of her life on land. The two of them spent many months together while the seal recovered. Eventually, they fell in love. However, they both knew that soon the time would come when the seal would have to return to the sea, and the princess would have to remain on land.

“That day came sooner than they liked. When the seal was fully recovered, the princess had him taken to the beach. The seal promised to visit her often, and the princess promised that she would remain loyal to him, and take no human husband. The seal touched his nose to hers and left to find his family, so they would know what had become of him. As soon as his head slipped below the water, the princess began to weep.

“Her tears fell into the sea. Deep below the ocean, in his watery palace, the great sea god heard the princess crying. Unable to stand the sound, he eventually emerged and surfaced. The princess was terrified that she was about to be drowned for some slight against him, as the sea god had been known to sink the ships of sailors that did not respect the ocean or spoke ill of him. But instead the sea god was kind, and asked why she was weeping so.

“The princess told him everything, and the sea god was so moved by her love for the seal that he offered to transform her into one, so they could be together all their days. The princess should have been overjoyed at his offer, but there was sadness in that for her, too. She loved the land she lived in, loved her family and the trees and the birds and all the creatures in the woods, and told him so. The sea god pondered this for a moment, and told the princess that she could live in both worlds.

“He gave her two gifts. The first gift was the form of a seal, so she could join her beloved and live with him under the water. The second gift was the gift of magic. Every seven years, she would be able to shed her seal skin and once again take human form, in order to visit her family and home. And so the princess joyfully accepted the sea god’s offer, and went to live in the ocean with her beloved. Every one of their children was born with the ability to shed their skins, as were their children, and their children’s children, all the way down to me--” Meg taps her own nose with her finger and almost touches Morgan’s before she pulls her hand away. “All the way down to me. The end.”

Morgan thanks Meg and skips back to her own bed. Moments later, Castiel hears his daughter snoring softly.

“You meant to say ‘all the way down to me and you’, didn’t you?” he asks softly.

Meg draws her knees to her chest and nods. “Yes. It is an old bedtime story. My father used to tell it to me when I was younger. I forgot, for a moment, that she does not know.” She uncurls herself and leans over to blow out the candle at her bedside. “Goodnight, Castiel.”

“Goodnight, Meg,” he says. Even with the candles snuffed out, the moon provides enough light for him to make out her form under the blankets as she rolls over to face the window. The sound of the waves crashing on the beach rolls through the window, bringing the sale air with it. He hears Meg sigh happily.

He rolls away from her to face the hearth.

.

When Castiel wakes the next morning, both Meg and Morgan are already gone. He panics for a moment, but relaxes when he hears both of them laughing outside. Rising, he shrugs into a pair of trousers and goes to the window, smiling when he sees the two of them bobbing along in the waves. Both are dressed in nothing but their nightgowns, and both are smiling and laughing and splashing each other.

He grabs a spare blanket from the bed, goes outside, and spreads it on the sand. Meg emerges from the water a few minutes later, her nightgown clinging to her body, and walks over to join him. The wet material is nearly see-through in the sunlight, and Castiel pointedly looks away when Meg sinks down beside him.

“Oh, don’t act so modest,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Humans.”

Castiel ignores her remark. “How long will you stay this time?”

“Until my father dies,” Meg answers. “I wanted to stay with him, to make sure he could make it here, but he told me to go ahead of him and spend time with my daughter. I think he wants to make his final swim alone. I don’t blame him.”

They sit in silence for a while, watching Morgan swim. The sun begins to climb higher in the sky, spreading warmth over the beach. Meg hums happily and lays back on the blanket, eyes closed in contentment.

“I missed this,” she says quietly. “I missed the pigs, too.”

“I was thinking of killing a chicken for dinner,” Castiel says evenly. “It is a special occasion, after all.”

“I’d like that. I missed chicken.”

“Did you miss me at all?” Castiel asks. Meg opens her eyes and raises her eyebrows at him.

“You want to do this now? Here?”

He nods. “I just want to know.”

Meg sighs and sits back up. “At times. I missed the companionship. I grew so used to having you around that I missed you for a time. I even missed your body, on occasion.”

“Did you marry your selkie?”

Meg shakes her head. “I did not want to marry again. He would have wanted more children, and I did not.”

Castiel turns back to look at the sea. Meg stands and brushes the drying salt off of her nightgown.

“I’m going to milk the goat,” she announces.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says. “I’ll do it if you want to stay with her.”

“I might as well do it while I’m here,” she says. “I’ll go crazy if I just sit around and wait for my father.”

Castiel nods and lets her go. A moment later, he is glad she did, because Anna comes walking down the path, a smile on her face and a bundle of fabric in her arms. Castiel curses under his breath and stands, hoping to deter her.

Despite ten children, six of which survive, his sister is still slender, and has aged gracefully. She carries herself with pride, her back straight and her steps light. Her hair has faded over the years from a shining copper to a red-tinted gray, and there are wrinkles lining her eyes, but they only serve to make her look wiser.

Morgan comes bounding out of the sea, splashing water everywhere as she runs up to Castiel. “Auntie Anna’s not supposed to be here!” she whispers, eyes wide.

Castiel panics. Anna cannot find Meg here. He cannot explain his wife’s presence to his sister. He cannot tell her the truth. Mind racing, Castiel pushes Morgan toward the house and speaks without thinking.

“Grab your mother and bring her somewhere,” Castiel growls. Morgan stares up at him with wide eyes. He realizes his slip a moment too late, but cannot take it back. He promises he will deal with it later and gives her another push.

“Hey, Cas!” Anna calls. “I figured I’d come up and let Morgan pick out some fabric and measure her for a new dress for her birthday. There’s a basket with some bread and treats under all this, too. I’ll just let myself inside.”

“Morgan’s actually feeling a little under the weather,” Castiel lies. “Maybe you should come back in a week or so. Wouldn’t want you catching it.”

Anna frowns. “But I just saw her swimming. Really, Cas, you shouldn’t let her go out if she’s feeling poorly. Let me make her some tea or something, at least.”

Castiel manages to reach Anna’s arms through the pile of fabric and turn her around so she’s no longer facing the house. “Really, Anna, I think you should go.”

“What’s gotten into you?” Anna cries. “Let me go and let me see my niece!”

Despite her age, Anna easily slips away from him. She’s spent years wrangling multiple children, so it is not hard for her to get past one person. Castiel tries to stop her, but she is too fast, even with her fabric and basket. His sister manages to get the door open and immediately gasps, dropping her bundle to the floor in surprise.

Meg, who has just pulled her green dress over her head, blinks rapidly at her sister-in-law, while Morgan’s eyes dart between the two women.

“Hey, Anna. Good to see you,” Meg says.

“You’re dead,” Anna whispers, horrified. “Oh, god, Meg. He told me you were dead.”

Castiel groans and leans against the doorframe. His wife has been home for less than twenty four hours and he’s already messed everything up.

Anna turns to face him, her face red with fury. “You need to tell me what’s going on right now.”

Meg walks to the door and gently takes Anna’s hands. When she speaks, her voice is soft. “You should sit down, Anna. It’s a long story.”

“Dad said that you’re my mom,” Morgan blurts. Meg glares at Castiel.

“Leave,” she orders. “The three of us are going to have a little chat.”

.

Castiel sits outside, his head on his knees and his back to the wall, and waits while the women talk inside. It reminds him of Morgan’s birth, when he was booted out of his own house and forced to wait to see if he would still have a family when it was all over. Only now there is no threat of death looming over him, only the threat of his sister and daughter refusing to speak to him again.

An hour or so later, the door opens and Anna steps out. She glares at him, her blue eyes like chips of ice. He looks back up at her.

“I’m very angry with you,” she says quietly. “You should have told me.”

“I know,” he says. “I’m sorry. I thought…I don’t know what I thought. I thought you wouldn’t believe me.”

Anna shakes her head. To his surprise, she does not leave. Instead, she sits down next to him on the ground and leans against the house. “I wouldn’t have believed it. But I believe her now. A couple of years ago, Dean was drunk one night and he told me that his mother had a sweetheart when she was young that turned into a seal.”

Castiel nods. “He told me, too. That was Meg’s father. He’s dying, Anna, that’s why she came back. Not for me and not for Morgan. But because her father’s dying and wants to see Mary’s grave before he does.”

Anna sighs heavily. “You can’t blame her for not wanting to come back. You practically kept her captive. But at least now I know why you never married again.”

“I know,” he says. “But she’ll leave again, probably as soon as her father passes. I can’t hide her skin again and keep her here. I don’t know where it is.”

“Would you force her to stay here even if you did know?” Anna asks. “Would you do that to her again?”

Castiel shrugs. “I honestly don’t know. When I met her, it was like there was a cloud over my thoughts. I was convinced that she really wanted to stay with me, but she just couldn’t resist going back to the ocean, like it had some sort of magic pull on her. I thought that being with me would make her happy. Then she left, and I was angry with her, for a while, for abandoning Morgan and I. Then I just missed her. Now that she’s back, I don’t want her to go again. I shouldn’t have told Morgan that Meg’s her mother.”

Anna laughs. “Morgan seemed to take it okay. She looked like she wanted to ask Meg a million questions. But you’re right. It’ll only make it harder for her when Meg goes. Unless she takes Morgan with her.”

“She can’t,” Castiel says. “Morgan was born on land. She doesn’t have a seal skin to transform herself with.”

“What if Meg finds a way?” Anna asks. “What then?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “She just arrived yesterday. We’ve not talked about it.”

Anna stands and groans. “Send Morgan to find Dean when Meg’s father comes. He’ll take him to Mary’s grave.”

Castiel nods. “I will.”

Anna nods back. “Good luck, Castiel.”

He watches his sister walk down the path toward the village, sighs, and gets to his feet. His legs and back protest the movement after staying crouched in one position for so long. His stretches, trying to loosen is cramped muscles and delay in inevitable conversation that he knows is coming.

Meg opens the door just as he’s touching his toes. He sees her bare feet, still crusted with sand, and pulls himself upward.

“We need to talk,” she says. “Come inside. Morgan’s got questions, and I’m not answering all of them by myself. I can’t believe you let it slip.”

“I panicked,” he defends. Meg shakes her head.

“I don’t care. Get in here.”

He follows Meg into the house, because he can do nothing else. Morgan is sitting at the table, her head bowed as she fiddles with a string of wooden beads around her neck that he recognizes as the ones Meg used to wear. She looks up when her parents enter and watches Castiel as he moves around the table. Meg sits in the other empty chair, so he stands beside her.

“Your father told you the truth,” Meg says quietly.

Morgan nods, but does not look up from her necklace. “Yes.”

“I met your father a little over fourteen years ago,” Meg continues. “I shed my skin to walk on land, and he met me on the beach. I loved him at first sight.”

Morgan finally looks up. There are tears in the corners of her bright blue eyes. When she speaks, her voice is small and broken. “Then why did you leave?”

“The ocean called me home,” Meg says softly. “It calls to you, too. I know you feel it.”

“Why didn’t you come back?” Morgan croaks. “Every seven years you can shed your skin. Why didn’t you come back?”

“I was afraid,” Meg lies. “I thought you’d hate me for leaving you.”

Morgan rapidly shakes her head. “No. No, mom, no.” Morgan turns her gaze to Castiel. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you lie?”

“It was a complicated situation,” Castiel says slowly. “You were too young to know the truth. I meant to tell you when you were older.”

Suddenly, Morgan stands. She speeds around the table and throws herself into her mother’s arms. Meg holds her awkwardly as the girl climbs into her lap and cries. Meg strokes Morgan’s hair and makes small shushing noises to quiet her, but Morgan only cries harder and clings to her mother.

“Don’t leave again,” she begs. “Please, stay with me.”

“I can’t,” Meg says quietly. “I have to go home. But I’ll come back and see you, I promise. I’ll shed my skin again.”

Castiel doesn’t say anything. Slowly, he moves his hands to Meg’s shoulders, needing to touch her. She doesn’t shrug him off. Instead, she moves one hand away from their daughter and places it over his.

.

Morgan is mistrustful of him after that, and Castiel cannot blame her. She grows quiet whenever he is in the room, withdrawing from him. In comparison, she becomes more open with Meg, hanging off of her mother at every opportunity. He can tell that it frustrates and annoys his wife, having a child attached to her hip, but Meg manages to keep it hidden. Neither of them can blame Morgan for her clinginess, not when she’s just discovered that Meg is her mother.

Three days after Morgan learns the truth, Castiel is inside the shack preparing lunch for them when he hears Meg let out a wordless cry of joy. He goes to the window just in time to see a naked man walk out of the ocean, a seal pelt hanging from his hands to cover him at the waist.

Meg’s father.

Castiel adds more water to the soup before he grabs his spare shirt and an old pair of trousers and goes to meet him. When he steps outside, he sees Meg run into the water to meet the man. She throws her arms around him, not caring that he is wet and naked, and chatters at him, making animal-like sounds. Morgan stands on the beach, eyes wide and curious.

Meg lets go of her father and leads him onto the beach. Castiel unconsciously takes a step backward when he sees him up close. Meg’s father has a heavily-lined face and very little hair left, but the small bit of hair plastered to his scalp is a light brown, far lighter than his daughter’s. But it is the man’s eyes that haunt Castiel. They’re a deep, dark yellow, and so sharp that they look as though they can see into his very soul.

“Dad, this is Castiel, the father of my child,” Meg says. “Castiel, this is my father, Azazel, son of Lucifer and Lilith.”

“Not sea names,” Castiel notes. Meg had told him once that all of her people had sea names, at least the ones who were born in the ocean.

“No. My grandparents did not follow that tradition for my mother. I never knew my selkie father. The man who raised me was of the land,” Azazel says. His voice is deep and rough, worn down by age and sickness.

Meg leaves her father’s side and walks to Morgan. She moves to stand behind her daughter and places her hands on her shoulders. When she speaks, there is pride in her voice. “This is my daughter, Morgan. Morgan, this is your grandfather.”

Azazel crouches down in front of Morgan and reaches out to lightly touch her cheek. A smile blooms on his face, deepening the wrinkles around his mouth, and his eyes fill with warmth. “Hello, child. Gods, you’ve grown so big. You’re almost as beautiful as your mother.”

“Thank you,” Morgan says. Azazel pats her cheek and stands again. When he looks at Castiel, the warmth is gone from his eyes.

Castiel meekly hands him the bundle of clothing. “These are for you.”

Azazel takes them and hands Castiel his seal skin in return. “Hide this so I cannot find it. I’m told you’re good at that. I’m also told that you know Mary Winchester’s eldest son.”

Castiel nods and takes the seal skin. His face burns with shame. “Yes. Dean is married to my sister, Anna.”

Azazel slips the trousers on, but ignores the shirt. His movements are slow, and Castiel sees the older man’s face screw up in pain when stands upright again. “I want to see him tomorrow. For now, I’d like to spend some time with my daughter and granddaughter. You will take him a message to arrive here at sunup.”

Castiel swallows hard. “I’ll go. Meg, there’s soup cooking in the fireplace.”

Meg nods. “I’ll take care of it. Go.”

.

To say that Dean is not happy is an understatement. Anna has told him about Meg’s reappearance, of course. But Anna is still unhappy with Castiel, and if she is unhappy with him, then Dean is as well. But he agrees to come to Castiel’s home at sunup and escort his mother’s first love to see her grave. He says it is the least he can do for the man, especially if he’s dying.

The sun has nearly set by the time Castiel returns home. He can see candles burning in the windows, and when he draws nearer he can hear laughter inside the house. He hesitates when he pushes the door open, not wanting to interrupt a happy family moment.

When he peeks inside, he sees Meg ladling the soup into bowls while Morgan sits opposite her grandfather at the table and Azazel talks.

“The things I could tell you about this one,” he says. “When she was your age, your mother was a holy terror. Beating up the other pups and disappearing for days on end. Nearly worried me out of my skin.”

“Dad, stop,” Meg huffs. But there is a smile on her face.

Azazel waves a dismissive hand at her. “Bah! She shed her skin for the first time when she was your age, too, you know. I worried and worried over her, and then she just reappeared one day, happy as a clam, telling me about her adventures on land. Little terror, she was.”

Morgan laughs, and Meg laughs, too.

Castiel finally opens the door, and the laughter ceases. Azazel stares at him with mistrustful eyes.

“Dean will come at sunup,” Castiel tells him.

Azazel nods. “Good. Meg said you added extra water to the soup.”

“I did,” Castiel says.

“Then there’s enough for everyone. Sit and eat,” Azazel says. He turns his attention back to Morgan. “Tell me, what have you been up to since I saw you last?”

Morgan begins to chatter excitedly between bites of soup, and Castiel learns that it has been a year and a half since Azazel visited Morgan, still in his seal form. There are only two chairs at the table, so Meg sits cross-legged on the big bed and pats the space next to her.

“He only has another day or two,” she says quietly, so Morgan cannot hear. “He’s getting weaker.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel says.

Meg shrugs. “It’s his time.”

Castiel can tell and Azazel is flagging by the time the dinner dishes are put away, and suggests they all tuck in early. Morgan, showing more energy than she has in days, whines and begs and pleads to stay up just a little bit longer. Despite looking like he’s ready to fall over, Azazel bypasses Castiel and tells his granddaughter she can stay up as late as she likes.

“What are grandfathers for?” he says when Morgan thanks him and asks for a story. Meg rolls her eyes, gathers some spare blankets, and trots over to the hearth. She offers her father the bed and sets her blankets down next to Castiel’s.

“Are you sure?” he asks when he sits down beside her. “You could easily fit in the big bed with your father.”

“He kicks in his sleep,” Meg tells him. “Besides, he’s not as warm as you are.”

She looks away as she says it, giving Castiel the sense that she is lying, but he relents. The two of them settle down next to each other, a safe distance between them. The small room is lit up by the moon and a few candles burning near the big bed where Azazel tells Morgan stories of the deep, passing on tales that his people have told for generations.

Meg falls asleep almost immediately, but Castiel stays awake, mesmerized by the stories. Some of them are clearly for very small children, short fairytales meant to teach lessons or put them to bed, but some of them are very long and intricate. Azazel has a good voice for them, calm and even, and despite his best efforts to stay awake, Castiel finds himself growing drowsy as he listens to the older man speak.

When he wakes, Meg is tucked up against his side and her head is pillowed on his chest. Sometime in the night, he’s thrown an arm around her to keep her close.

She’s cold like the deep ocean, and clearly leeching his warmth, but after spending years longing to hold her again, Castiel cannot bring himself to pull away from her. Instead, he lays there on the floor and holds her tightly, breathes in the smell of the sea that always clings to her and runs his fingers through her long, dark hair.

They all spring awake at once when there’s a knock on the door. Azazel shoots up in bed, but Meg remains cuddled to Castiel’s side. Her father does not even glance in their direction as he throws the blankets off and opens the door.

Dean Winchester stands on the other side of the threshold, his fist poised to knock again. He blinks at Azazel, and then frowns. “You must be Meg’s father.”

Azazel nods. “You must me Mary’s son.”

“I am,” Dean says. He walks inside as if it is his own home, and frowns when he sees Meg and Castiel curled up together on the floor. “Really, man? C’mon.”

Meg wiggles out of Castiel’s grip and stands. She pulls Dean into a quick hug and smiles up at him. “It is good to see you, Dean.”

Morgan blinks sleep from her eyes and smiles when she sees her uncle. “Uncle Dean! Uncle Dean! I have a mom _and_ a grandpa!”

Dean smiles back at her. “So you do, kiddo. Your grandpa and me gotta go do some stuff today, so I’ll see you later.”

“Let me dress, and then we’ll go,” Azazel says. He takes his clothes and slips behind the screen to dress as Castiel picks up the blankets and returns them to the big bed and Meg begins to ready breakfast. She finds bread and cheese from the day before and wraps them in the bundle before handing them to Dean.

“Make sure he eats,” she whispers. “He’s very weak. He might need help getting there.”

Dean looks like he wants to ask her a thousand questions, but all he does is nod. When Azazel emerges from behind the screen, he kisses Morgan’s cheek and promises another story when he returns. He kisses Meg’s cheek, too, but does not spare Castiel a glance.

Meg sighs heavily. “I’ll go milk the goat.”

.

“It’s under the floor, isn’t it?” Meg asks while she and Castiel prepare lunch. Morgan is outside; combing the beach for interesting treasures, and cannot hear them. “In the same place you hid mine.”

“It is the only hiding place I have,” Castiel answers. “Why?”

“You would do better to burn it,” Meg says. “He does not plan to return to the sea, and this way he cannot.”

“That’s how you keep a selkie on land forever?” Castiel asks. “Buy burning their skin?”

Meg nods. “Oh, yes.”

“I’m glad you did not tell me that when we first met,” he says. “I would have burned yours.”

“I know,” Meg says. “That’s why I did not tell you.”

“I won’t burn your father’s pelt,” he continues. “It should be his choice.”

“You’ve learned,” Meg observes as she slices the bread.

He nods. “I have. I’m sorry, for what I did. I know it doesn’t change anything, but I wanted you to know. I’m so, so sorry.”

“I know you are,” Meg says. She puts down the bread knife and kisses his cheek. “But it doesn’t change the past.”

.

Azazel returns at sunset, looking worse for the wear and coughing. Dean has to help him into the house, and he will not eat when Meg tries to spoon soup into his mouth. But his eyes light up when Morgan crawls into his bed and asks for a story, and he manages to sit up so he can tell her one. Meg watches him with distant eyes, and when Castiel takes her hand to give it a reassuring squeeze, she does not shake him off.

Instead, she leads him to their makeshift bed beside the hearth and clings to him until she falls asleep. Castiel does not know if she truly feels any affection toward him once again or if she simply needs human contact when her father is dying, and he does not care. He will give her whatever she needs.

They wake at dawn to Dean once again knocking on the door. Only, Azazel doesn’t rise. Meg untangles herself from Castiel’s arms and prods her father once before she steps away and goes to the door.

“He’s dead,” she tells Dean. Castiel rushes to the bed and shakes the man, only to see what Meg has said is true. His eyes are closed and the bed is soiled, and he reeks of death. But there is a smile on his face, and he looks peaceful.

Morgan wakes and rubs her eyes. “What smells so bad?”

“Go outside,” Meg orders, her voice sharp. “Now.”

Morgan doesn’t argue, but rushes onto the beach, narrowly avoiding her uncle as walks into the room. The three of them look down at Azazel’s body together, all of them unwilling to move him.

“He told me that he loved her,” Dean finally says. “Yesterday, he knelt in front of mom’s grave and told me that he told her that he would’ve burnt his seal skin to stay with her on land and marry her. He said that I would have been his son.”

Meg swallows hard. “We should burn him and scatter the ashes in the sea. Cas, Dean, I’ll need help to build a pyre.”

Castiel nods and instinctively puts his arm around Meg’s shoulders to draw her away. “I’ll get him cleaned up. You should eat something before we start.”

Meg shakes her head. “I’m not hungry, and I have to tell Morgan yet. Dean, help me gather some branches.”

She doesn’t even dress before she walks out the front door. Dean pats Castiel on the shoulder and follows Meg out of the house, grabbing an old cardigan of hers as he goes.

Castiel goes about the unpleasant business of getting Azazel out of the bed and cleaned up. He is heavier than Castiel expected, his body already stiffened with death, and difficult to move. But he eventually manages to maneuver him outside and lays him in the grass, under the clear blue sky.

Morgan’s eyes are full of tears when she walks back to the house, but she carries herself strongly. “I want to help.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with this,” Castiel says. “Go play. Or help your mother gather wood.”

“I want to help,” Morgan repeats. Castiel hesitates.

“The goat still needs to be milked,” he says slowly. “And the sheets need to be stripped off the bed. I don’t know if anything leaked through to the mattress.”

“I’ll do it,” Morgan says quickly. She scampers off inside of the house to grab the milk bucket and strip the bed. Castiel follows her with his eyes and then goes about stripping Azazel out of his borrowed clothes. After the body is clean, Castiel re-dresses the man in his own best clothes, carefully manipulating his limbs and wincing when he hears them crack.

“The mattress is clean,” Morgan tells him when she reappears. “I’ve set the sheets to soaking and put some new ones on. The goat is milked.”

“Start gathering as much dry grass as you can,” Castiel instructs. “We’ll need kindling.”

Morgan nods and begins gathering dry grass and sticks. Castiel helps her, bundling them next to Azazel. He and his daughter work for hours, until there is nothing left for them to do but wait. They sit on either side of Azazel’s body, waiting for Meg and Dean.

“She’s going to leave now, isn’t she?” Morgan asks quietly.

“She’ll come back for you,” Castiel promises. “She visited you while she was a seal. She’ll probably do that again.”

Morgan brings her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. “I don’t want her to go.”

She looks so small and vulnerable like that, still a child. Castiel puts his arm around her shoulders and draws her to his chest. “I know.”

.

Meg and Dean return with a decent amount of wood. Castiel helps them construct a small pyre, and he and Dean manage to heave Azazel’s body onto it. Meg and Morgan pile the dry grass and sticks all around, creating pockets for the flame to take to.

“Should we burn his skin with him?” Castiel asks when they’re finished. Meg shakes her head.

“Keep it or sell it as you wish,” she says. “It isn’t his anymore.”

She takes Morgan’s hand and walks her to the pyre a final time. Meg touches her father’s forehead and speaks in that strange, guttural tongue that seems half seal and half human. After a moment, Morgan repeats the words and comes back to stand beside her father.

“I need a torch of some kind,” Meg says. “Cas? Dean?”

Dean goes inside and comes back with a log from the fireplace. Meg wordlessly takes it and lights the pyre.

“Take care of her,” Dean tells him. He pats Morgan on the head and turns to walk down the path toward the village.

Meg takes Castiel’s hand and holds it tight. The three of them stand there for a long time, watching Azazel burn. The day is nearly done by the time nothing is left of him but ash. When the fire burns itself out, Meg watches until the ocean rolls onto the shore and takes Azazel’s ashes out to sea.

“Goodbye, father,” she whispers. “Come on, Morgan. You need to eat.”

.

The three of them eat in silence, save for Morgan’s occasional sniffs. Soon after dinner is done, Meg climbs into the big bed and pulls the covers tight around her. Morgan scampers to her own bed and does the same, her back to both of them. Castiel gets the spare blankets and prepares to sleep on the floor again, but stops when Meg’s hand darts out of her nest of blankets and wraps around his wrist.

“Stay with me,” she requests. Castiel doesn’t have to be asked twice. He crawls into the bed and holds her to his chest. Meg sniffles once, the only sign of weeping she has ever shown him, and presses her forehead against the soft material of his sleep shirt. Meg clutches him, fingers digging into his shirt, and does not move. Castiel simply strokes her hair and makes quiet shushing noises as she continues to make small noises of grief.

But he does not feel tears leaking into the material of his shirt.

“Selkies can’t cry, can they?” he says softly. Meg shakes her head, but does not speak or look at him.

A moment later, he feels the bed dip. Castiel turns his head slightly to see Morgan climbing in with her parents.

“Can I sleep in here with you?” Morgan squeaks. Meg lifts her head when she hears her daughter’s voice and pats the other side of the bed.

Morgan manages to burrow down between her parents, and is asleep within minutes. Meg stays awake, however, simply looking at him.

“When will you leave?” he asks her.

“I can already feel the sea calling me,” Meg says. “I’ll go soon. I have to tell the rest of the family about what happened. But I will come back. I promise.”

“She’ll be old enough to marry then,” Castiel tells her. “She might already be married by then.”

Meg presses her lips together. “Make her wait for me.”

“I’ll try,” Castiel promises.

.

As usual, Meg and Morgan are awake before him. He can hear a quiet argument happening outside, but does not go to see what his wife and daughter are fighting about. Instead, he goes around the back of the house to milk the goat. When he returns, Meg is standing in the middle of the room, clad only in a bedsheet.

“Come here,” she says softly.

Castiel shakes his head. “Meg, I don’t think--Morgan might come back any minute.”

“I’ve sent her to fetch my skin, and told her not to come back until lunch,” Meg informs him.

Castiel opens his mouth to protest again, but is stopped when Meg drops the sheet. She stands there as naked as the day she washed up on the beach fourteen years ago and shed her skin in front of him. Her body has changed with age, her waist thickening and her breasts sagging, but she is still as beautiful as she ever was.

Without speaking, she throws herself into his arms and crashes her lips against his. It is not soft and gentle, and it is not full of passion. Her kiss is more teeth than anything else. Her hands claw at his shirt, nearly shredding the delicate material, and Castiel gasps loudly when Meg’s teeth sink into his bottom lip and draw blood.

Castiel lets Meg take the lead as she pushes him backward toward the big bed. She pins him down on the blankets and climbs into his lap, rips his shirt open and yanks his trousers down past his thighs. She is anything but gentle, using her nails and teeth to rip his skin open and send small rivers of blood running down his body. She isn’t quiet, either, practically screaming as she rides him. Castiel tries to hold onto her hips to steady her or guide her movements, but Meg grabs his wrists and holds him down, keeping him pinned under her.

He lets her work out her grief, lying there under her as she moves. She keens as she climaxes, and he follows her a moment after, breathing hard as she lies atop his chest. He reaches down with trembling fingers and gently strokes her back. Meg pants against his neck for a moment before she finally rolls off of him.

“I’ll get some bandages,” she says, and slips away. Castiel winces when he sits up. The wounds on his chest and neck still weep blood, and sting whenever he tries to move. He sits still on the bed as Meg gently cleans and bandages the cuts. When she is finished, she rises to dress properly without speaking to him. Castiel carefully re-buttons his shirt and fixes his pants.

Once she is dressed, Meg comes back and sits next to him on the bed and leans her head against his shoulder. “I love you.”

Castiel tries not to believe her. She had told him once that her kind loved easily and often, and that it wanes as quickly as it comes. Instead, he puts an arm around her shoulder and kisses the top of her head. “It will pass.”

.

Morgan returns at noon, as promised, dragging her mother’s skin with her. Meg thanks her daughter and drapes the pelt over the back of one of the chairs. Perhaps she trusts him not to hide it again, or perhaps she knows that there is nowhere he could hide it without her knowing. Either way, the sight of it makes Castiel’s stomach fill with dread. Meg will don her skin and swim away soon, leaving him and Morgan alone once more.

Morgan seems to sense it, too, because she stares at the pelt with hatred in her eyes. Meg ignores both of them and goes about the daily chores, baking bread and fixing tears in their clothing and finishing the laundry. When Castiel tries to help, she waves him off and tells him to go and check his snares, and sends Morgan to tend to the small garden. She acts as though the pelt isn’t even there, almost as if she is not planning to leave.

Later that night, Castiel sits in front of the fire long after Meg and Morgan have gone to bed. The faint light plays off of the seal skin sitting draped over the other chair, casting shadows over the spotted fur. He stands and takes it off the chair without thinking, and carries it back to the hearth with him.

Meg had told him that burning a selkie’s seal skin would keep them human forever.

He isn’t sure how long he stands there, fingers buried in the velvet soft fur of Meg’s other skin. He hears a rustling noise, and Meg comes to stand beside him. She does not try to stop him, does not even reach for her other skin.

“Well,” she says softly, “aren’t you going to burn it?”

He frowns, but cannot bring himself to look at her. “Do you want me to?”

“No,” she says.

“Then no,” he tells her. He drapes the skin back over the chair and pats the head.

“Outside,” Meg orders softly. She takes his hand and pulls him toward the door, so he can do nothing but follow. Outside, the moon is nearly gone, and he can barely see in front of his face. He follows her anyway, until she stops walking and pulls him down to sit on a pile of soft grass.

This time, her kisses are gentle. It reminds Castiel of the last time they made love almost fourteen years ago, when he woke in the morning to find her gone. He tries not to think of it as Meg pulls her nightgown over her head and reaches for his sleep shirt. He uses their clothing as a makeshift blanket as he lays her on her back in the faint moonlight. He takes his time with her, tracing over the old and new scars that mar her skin, desperate to remember every inch of her body when she is gone. Meg does the same to him, running her fingers down his back and over his bandaged chest. But her eyes never leave his, and Castiel finds that he cannot look away from hers, either.

After, she lets him hold her. Both of them shiver in the cool, night air, but Castiel is unwilling to return to the shack and the reality facing him. Meg is leaving, probably tomorrow or the next day, and he will not see her for seven more years.

“I want to take Morgan with me,” she breathes.

He stiffens and rolls away from her. “No. Meg, you can’t take her, too. She’s all I have.”

Meg sits up and simply fixes him with a cool look. “She’s my daughter, too.”

“She doesn’t have a seal skin,” Castiel reminds her. “She can’t go with you.”

“I think…I think I might be able to give her my father’s skin,” Meg says slowly. “She’s only half selkie, so it might not even work. But I want to try.” Her face softens, and she turns to look toward the ocean. “I would bring her back. It is only seven years.”

Castiel shivers. “What would I tell people?”

“Tell them that you sent her to your mother’s,” Meg says smoothly. “Tell them that she ran away. Tell them whatever you like.”

“Morgan might not want to even go with you,” Castiel says. Meg sighs.

“She’ll want to come. The ocean is in her blood, as it is in mine. I told you that, when she was a babe. Remember?”

Castiel’s shoulders slump. He knows that Meg is right, that Morgan will want to go to the sea with her mother, if she can.

“I don’t want to lose both of you,” he whispers.

“Then you should’ve burnt my pelt,” Meg tells him. She rises and slips her nightgown over her head. “Come to bed, Castiel.”

“I still could, you know,” he tells her as he pulls his sleep shirt over his head.

Meg’s lips twitch, as if she is about to smile. “You won’t.”

.

Meg is right. Of course Morgan wants to go with her if she can; of course his daughter wants to explore the ocean and all it has to offer.

They have a meager breakfast as Morgan chatters excitedly, hoping that her grandfather’s skin will transform her. Meg smiles softly at her daughter and clutches Castiel’s hand as they eat, smoothing her thumb over his skin. After breakfast, Morgan rushes outside to finish the morning chores, the last she will have to do for seven years, leaving her parents alone.

“You’ll watch her?” Castiel asks. “Keep her safe? Make sure she isn’t attacked by sharks or hunters or anything?”

“I will,” Meg promises as she digs her father’s pelt out from under the floorboards.

“Her birthday is in two days,” Castiel continues. “Make it special for her, okay?”

“I will,” Meg repeats. She puts her father’s skin next to hers on the bed and hesitates. “I wish you could come with us. There’s still time to burn them, you know. Make me your wife in truth, forever. The three of us could live here. I know you want it.”

“I do,” he says. “But I…I can’t do it. I can’t do that to you.”

Meg picks the skins up from the bed and looks out the window. There is a small smile on her face as she looks at the ocean, and Castiel can practically hear her body hum with longing.

“I’ll go get Morgan and meet you on the beach,” Meg tells him. Castiel sighs and follows her out the door, his bare feet sinking into the sand. His wife and daughter appear a moment later. Both of them have shed their nightgowns, but wrapped a sheet around themselves for the sake of modesty.

Morgan hugs him tightly. “Bye, daddy. I’ll see you soon.”

Castiel holds his daughter just as tight and kisses the top of her head. “Listen to your mother. Don’t get into trouble.”

“I’ll miss you,” Morgan says. “I love you, dad.”

“I love you, too,” he tells her. Castiel pats her head and watches her scamper a bit further down the beach, closer to the water. Meg sighs and pulls him into a one-armed hug.

“Take care of yourself,” she breathes. “We’ll be back in seven years, maybe less. Watch the shore for us.”

“I will,” he promises. Meg nods and presses a gentle kiss to his cheek before she follows her daughter to the shoreline. Both of them drop their sheets and stand there, naked, in front of the rolling waves.

Meg takes her father’s skin and drapes it over Morgan. It is far too big for her, the head falling down to obscure half her face and the fin dragging in the sand so she looks like a little girl playing dress up in her mother’s clothing. Castiel sucks in a breath and holds it, part of him selfishly praying that it will not work.

Meg dons her own skin, after. There is a flash of light, and the quiet noise of the waves breaking on the shore. When the light fades, his wife and daughter are gone, replaced by two seals. The animals turn their heads toward him in unison. Then, together, they turn and make their way into the ocean.

Castiel falls to his knees on the beach and lets out the breath he was holding. They are gone, and for the first time in fourteen years, he is alone.

He stands slowly and heads back into the house. He curls up in the bed that still smells of Meg and lies staring at the ceiling. It is quiet, far too quiet for his liking without his wife and daughter there to fill his home with life and laughter. But he can adjust, and in seven years, they will be back. All he has left to do is wait, and waiting is the easy part.


End file.
